


the end is a slow progression

by cerealmilk



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/F, NDRV3 Spoilers, Nonbinary Character, Other, Slow Burn, Trans Male Character, let maki be happy 2k18, sad kids receive a get out of jail free card from sonia, sorry hoshi for plot purposes you must die
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-03-19 01:07:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13693698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerealmilk/pseuds/cerealmilk
Summary: In a different timeline, Kirumi Toujou understood what she needed to do.As the Ultimate Maid, it was her job to assess the situation, figure out the best possible outcome, and then offer whatever help she could to achieve that outcome. So, naturally, when the information presented to itself her that if one of them did not die, then all of them would, she began to think: how do sixteen teenagers with varying talents, personalities, and dynamics escape a supposed killing game, suffering no casualties and without turning on one another?(Kirumi lives through her execution, and the rest is left to chance.)





	1. and soon the sun will rise again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi yeah i dont??? Know what this is???? I havent even played the game i just took a tumblr post i saw one (1) time, the talent development plan bonuses, and sdr2 and mashed em together into Kirumi Lives and Very Few Actually Die.
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTE: don't expect consistent updates!! this is more of a vent/free time project stemming from an overall dissatisfaction with ndrv3
> 
> Enjoy!

In this timeline, Kirumi Toujou killed, and then fell, and then died.

And that was the end of it.

 

* * *

 

In a different timeline, Kirumi Toujou understood what she needed to do.

As the Ultimate Maid, it was her job to assess the situation, figure out the best possible outcome, and then offer whatever help she could to achieve that outcome. So, naturally, when the information presented to itself her that if one of them did not die, then all of them would, she began to think: how do sixteen teenagers with varying talents, personalities, and dynamics escape a supposed killing game, suffering no casualties and without turning on one another?

They had already tried, many times, to bypass the Death Road of Despair, but those escapades brought nothing but failure. Even the thought of it exhausted her, so that was clearly no longer an option. Otherwise, she supposed, all she could do was venture to the boundaries of the campus, but the notion seemed hopeless in and of itself. Monokuma certainly knew how to manipulate a situation.

The thought of the bear frustrated her on some humanistic level— she could not tell whether or not Monokuma was bluffing about everyone dying, but considering their predicament and what they had already witnessed, it wasn’t a safe gamble to make, but there had to be a way. There _had_ to be a way for everyone to get out alive. As the Ultimate Maid, it was her deigned duty to ensure that much.

Duty. It seemed so fickle, now, but the least she could do for everyone in the direness of it all was ensure as much comfort and sanctum as she could. She had a duty to her classmates as their caretaker, and deeper down, perhaps in a buried memory, she had a duty to her people… Whoever they were.

Thus, she did not panic at the notion of death. She had faith in her classmates and a job to busy herself with. Losing herself in fear would accomplish nothing, so instead she whisked them all away as soon as the damned bear was gone, setting them down in the cafeteria and filling whatever food requests she was capable of making.

Kokichi proved an incessant annoyance, purposefully riling up the others and making a scene wherever he could, but Kirumi found herself grateful to Kaede, who dispelled the tension every time he prodded it. As a token of her gratitude, she put extra care into Kaede’s guiltily requested dish. The girl thanked her endlessly, but insisted she help in the kitchen next time.

“I mean, we’re friends, aren’t we?” The pianist laughed, fiddling with her hair. “Plus, it’ll be good to learn how to cook. I’m kind of hopeless in that aspect. Among other things.”

 _Friends._ She felt the dull ache of untapped memories press against her skull, as it had during Monokuma’s announcement, but pushed it aside, settling instead for a hesitant agreement that the pianist could assist her with breakfast tomorrow. Kaede’s smile was brilliant, and Kirumi found it as no surprise that this was who everyone had unanimously decided to follow. Her optimism and inspiring words would surely be key to their ultimate success.

Inwardly, Kirumi swore— no matter what happened in the coming days, she would ensure Kaede‘s life. The girl, in the previous two days, had taken great care in making sure everyone stayed together, standing as one united force against Monokuma‘s reign. Kirumi admired her for her courage, as well as her persistence. Yes, this girl would certainly be instrumental to their victory. Of course, not that her life held any more value over the others— Kirumi would get everyone out alive if she could.

When nightfall came, everyone parted ways. As she retreated to her room, she caught a glimpse of Kaede and Shuichi whispering amongst themselves, but paid their secrecy no mind. She trusted Kaede. She _trusted_ her classmates, as naive as the thought was. Surely, no harm would come to them.

Sleep avoided her, and when it came her dreams were plagued with ultraviolet blood and jagged red eyes and a thousand voices chanting, _“Death to the prime minister!”_

 

 

The next day was harder. Kirumi woke early, as she always did, feeling no better rested than she had the previous day. There was a bitter, coppery taste in her mouth and the echo of a dream— or worse, another memory— lingering unbidden in her head, and no matter how many times she shook her head the ringing in her ears did not fade.

Ah, well. Nothing more could be done, then. Despite that, she had a job to do, and made the journey to the kitchens to begin breakfast preparations. Kaede, true to her word, arrived next, still looking groggy from the unexpectedly early morning, but otherwise bright with enthusiasm. Kirumi showed her the proper way to make an omelette, exactly how much butter to use when buttering toast, among other tips and tricks as they moved through the platters.

She had to admit, it was fun working with Kaede. She provided most of the conversation, talking easily, but always listening whenever Kirumi offered her occasional input or corrected the temperature of the other girl’s stove. They talked of the plan for the future, of what each other could remember, and when Kirumi offered the question of ‘why piano?’ Kaede launched into an extravagant, seemingly endless rant that, while hard to follow, Kirumi found endearing.

“If you are willing, I am eager to learn,” she said, effectively cutting off Kaede’s current train of thought. The blonde peered at her blankly for a long moment.

“I— what?”

“Piano,” Kirumi explained, moving her gaze upwards from the pan before her briefly to offer her a smile. “That is, if you are willing to teach me. My skills are numerous, but learning any sort of instrument has always evaded me. Thus, I would very much enjoy learning when we get out of here.” _When._ Not if.

Kaede stared for another long moment before a massive grin broke across her face. Kirumi pretended to ignore the way the other girl’s eyes glistened somewhat— as if what Kirumi said had counted for something, as if the maid hadn’t gone against all her training and instincts to make a request of her own.

Yet… she regretted nothing.

Kaede, suddenly speechless, could only nod enthusiastically while discreetly brushing the emotion from her eyes.

“Yeah!” She said pumping her fists. “When we get out, it’ll be the first thing I do. Promise!”

 _Promise._ Kirumi held that word close, as if her body alone could shield its innocence from the desolate world they had all found themselves trapped in.

The rest of the time was spent in silence, other than Kaede humming an unfamiliar, yet chipper tune as she set about setting the tables. By the time everyone else arrived, breakfast was waiting, hot and steaming— a peace offering for the dire conversation they’d all been dreading.

Kirumi herself sat down between Angie and Himiko, but that was mostly due to the fact that Himiko hardly seemed awake, and would likely require aid throughout the duration of the morning’s trials. Kaede sat down across from her, Shuichi quickly claiming a spot by her side. It seemed the two of them had found something in each other they could trust implicitly.

When close enough to everyone was finally present and seated, they began the discussion on how to progress in the coming days.

Rantarou and Ryouma argued. As she later informed Kiibo, who arrived late to the scene, Ryouma had offered himself as a human sacrifice, and Rantarou had decried the idea, preaching that he would get them all out alive without such extremities. Afterwards, they parted ways, the matter unresolved.

All in all, not a whole lot was accomplished, other than the fact that Himiko almost ate her entire breakfast before lightly dozing against Kirumi’s shoulder for the rest of the time, only jolting awake when Ryouma slammed the cafeteria doors behind him.

Then, everything was silent.

The air, electric in her throat and her nose with the sheer _tension,_ muddled her thoughts with the uncertainty it held— she did her best to dispel it, but yesterday’s failure and the weight of the killing game hung heavy over all their heads. Helplessness was an unfamiliar feeling. She resented it. She resented the fact that her talent was all for naught here, the revelation of her weakness tearing her from the inside out like razor blades within her bones.

Outwardly, she maintained her ever-pleasant mien. Time was flying by faster than she could keep up, but the others needed her to stay strong, and that much she could do. Never let it be said that ‘fake it ‘till you make it’ wasn’t a viable mindset in the face of adversity. Gentleness was something everyone but seemingly Shuichi and Gonta lacked. That was something she could do. Gentleness, subtlety, grace. The traits of a proper maid.

 _Yet, a proper maid does not make requests of her own,_ an unfamiliar, condescending voice in the back of her head scolded, and the dull throb that followed was quickly becoming a common occurrence. Only Shuichi noticed when she brought a hand to rub the pain away from her temples, but he made no comment. The bags beneath his eyes told similar stories.

 

 

In the end, they had so little time.

Through the rest of the morning, she tried her best to be of service to anyone and everyone. Anything to keep her hands and her mind away from thoughts of murder, how easy it would be to take one of the kitchen knives, stab a classmate in the back— she was the Ultimate Maid. If she was swift, there would be no evidence.

Briefly, she entertained the thought, imagining the feeling of blood running over her gloves and secrets in her mouth, sweeping the evidence under the rug and condemning the rest of her classmates to die, and immediately she found herself hunched over the kitchen sink, heaving. She rinsed it all down the drain, wiping her mouth on a dish towel before throwing it away.

Yet, even still, her eyes kept tracing back to the pristine silver knives lined up in their neat rows on the wall, on the chemicals beneath the sink and the dry dish towels in the next drawer over, how easy it would be to coat the rag in ammonia and smother someone like Himiko or Ouma—

The plate in her hand slipped, shattering as soon as it came in contact with the floor and sending porcelain fragments skittering across the white tile. The fact that _that_ did not register immediately, especially with her talent, when she came to a few seconds later, was what unsettled her most of all. Nonetheless, she retrieved the broom, and tried in vain to ignore the tremor in her hands.

If only the others knew how horrible a person she truly was, Kirumi mused, sweeping the shards into a pile. _Rotten, rotten Kirumi Toujou._

As soon as she finished drying the rest of the dishes and exited the kitchens looking moderately presentable, she was surprised to find Kaede still sitting in the cafeteria, seemingly having waited for her. Her gaze was very distant, so she didn‘t notice Kirumi’s approach until the maid cleared her throat. The pianist jumped, whipping around, she but relaxed as soon as she realized who it was.

“A-ah! Kirumi-san! I wanted to ask you something, before you go.”

There were halls that needed mopping and shelves needing dusting, but she could always find a second to spare for Kaede.

“Did you need anything, Akamatsu-san? If it’s a request, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until later—“

Kaede shook her head vigorously, hands held in front of her. “No! Nothing like that. I just, uh, heard a crash in there. Are you— are you alright?”

_I am a rotten human being and a poor excuse for a maid and the thought of murder does not scare me I am not afraid I am despicable and I do not deserve your kindness you would hate me if you knew—_

“I see. I thank you for the concern, but it is not necessary. Merely… a lot has happened in a very short amount of time, and I am just now processing it all,” she replied, which was not the full truth but she couldn’t bring herself to lie to Kaede, not even in part.

Kaede watched her for a moment longer. “You don’t need to be strong all the time,” she said, hitting the issue right at the roots. Her observance was impressive, but to Kirumi’s credit, she didn’t wince at such straightforwardness.

“Neither do you. Yet, here we are,” she countered gently, and Kaede’s enthusiasm faltered. The pianist bid her a swift farewell, and then was gone, leaving Kirumi alone in the cafeteria.

Her fingers itched for a broom, or a rag, or a duster— anything, and she did not fight the powerful urge to tidy up within her this time. She had a whole school to clean and a day to spend fretting over a time limit which she still wasn’t convinced existed.

 

 

People came and went throughout the day, seeking her out as she swept the halls to pristine perfection. Sometimes, they asked her for help, as Angie did when she couldn’t open a particularly stubborn canister of paint, or as Gonta did when he tried (and failed) to fold his bed for the seventh time. She cleaned Himiko’s room entirely, being careful not to disturb any of the chalk writings or papers filled with odd symbols, and ran into Maki shortly thereafter. The caregiver said nothing, and they parted ways with only a small, mutual nod of acknowledgement.

(“ _Harukawa-san, please remember you are your own person, too. You are not simply someone else’s tool.”_

_“That’s rich, coming from you.”_

Kirumi banished the memory, sweeping such an enigma under her mental rug with all the others.)

Yet, sometimes, people stopped by simply because they needed someone to listen to their rantings. Kaito, Shinguuji, Tenko, and Miu fit into this category.

Kaito needed someone to talk to who was also dealing with the burden of responsibility over the ragtag group, figuring briefly what the plan was and what he needed to be doing. Kirumi suggested letting everyone adjust to their surroundings, first and foremost— to which he eagerly agreed before leaving.

Shinguuji hadn’t been looking for her, specifically, but upon running into her as she mopped one of the hallways, stayed to chat with her. The anthropologist would ask her some odd question or another, and she would answer, after which they would elaborate on the matter in question, opening news windows of knowledge on human culture and nature. Remarkably, the experience ended up being quite enjoyable, so she bid them a kind farewell when they departed.

Tenko, initially, was on the hunt for a rampant Kokichi, but ended up confessing her own concerns about the killing game to the maid, who was happy to listen. She left with an embarrassed flush dusting her cheeks.

Only minutes later, Miu came barging in, and leaned against the wall as Kirumi tidied the dormitory commons. The Ultimate Inventor prattled on and on about several of her big ideas, mentioning something about cameras before switching to preach about a potential Kiibo upgrade. Kirumi smiled and nodded along, but her head was full of static.

_Crack the broom over her head, take the rag and choke her choke her choke her—_

“Please forgive me, Iruma-san,” she said distantly, ignoring the way the wood broom creaked beneath her clenched fists. “I need to clean my own room now. Could we carry on this discussion at a later time?”

Miu shrugged and spewed some foul farewell that Kirumi didn’t hear. The careful control (pre-programmed, injected, surgically precise puppet strings) she had was slipping.

 

 

Kaede came to her again later in the afternoon. Kirumi was still in her own dorm room, as she had been for an hour or so, scrubbing her dresser free of dust particles when she heard the knock on her door. Immediately, she placed the dirtied cloth on the dresser before moving to the door, brushing off her skirt before opening it.

The pianist was trembling all over, eyes wide and sorrowful and puffy and the first thing Kirumi could think was— _oh no_.

“Akamatsu-san, is everything alright?” She asked nonetheless, surprising herself with the amount of concern that bled into her voice. _Don’t say you’ve killed someone. Please, anyone but you._

Kaede shook her head, clutching her hands close to her chest. Shuichi was strangely absent. “C-can— can we talk?”

Shoving down the worry and suspicion riling within her, she let the shorter girl in and had her sit down on her neatly folded bed, the crisp sheets bending beneath their combined weight.

“Akamatsu-san, what’s wrong?” Kirumi asked, brow knit with concern. She ached to reach out, to comfort Kaede however she could, but she knew she needed to wait for her to make the first move.

Kaede’s voice came out in a strangled hiss.

“We’re going to die.”

Terror and vulnerability shone bright in her gaze. Gone was the confident leader from the previous days— here was a friend to them all, caring so deeply and intensely for everyone’s well-being it brought her to her knees. Tears dripped from her eyes, and she made no effort to rub them away. “Kirumi— Toujou-san— I-I need to protect them—“

Kaede’s hands loosened from their tight grip at her chest, trembling as they fell into her lap, fingers uncurling. She was reaching out for contact, for comfort, for stability. It was a silent request, but a request all the same, and Kirumi found herself obliged to comply.

Hugging Kaede felt familiar in a way that made her head pulse with pain. Something warm blossomed in her chest, and she got the gut-wrenching feeling that this was not the first time Kaede had come to her, specifically, for comfort, not the first time the blonde’s hands had bunched the fabric of her shoulders, sobs muffled in the crook of her neck, but surely there couldn’t have been any other time such events took place, so the sensation left her largely unsettled.

Disquieted, Kirumi stroked Kaede’s hair and rubbed her back as gently as she could, coaxing every ragged breath into something steadier than the last.

“K-Kirumi—“ Kaede cried. “I-I don't… I don’t know how to protect them. P-Please, help me. Help me save everyone.”

And suddenly, Kirumi understood. It was a request, after all.

“Of course, Akamatsu-san,” she murmured. “I will do my utmost to fulfill your request. For now, I would recommend you try to get some rest. You have been working harder than the rest of us these past days— you deserve it. It is never wise to push yourself past your limits, physically or emotionally.”

Kaede exhaled something akin to ‘thank you’ into the damp cloth of her uniform, unaware of the impact her words would have on Kirumi’s fate.

 

 

Five minutes later, Kaede hugged her goodbye at the door, and it hurt Kirumi to think that this would be the last time Kaede touched her willingly, should she live, if this half-formed plan of hers worked, after all. It took all her effort to keep her emotions in check when she hugged back, to keep her movements precise and controlled and perfect. Somehow, she maintained a careful smile and practiced wave as Kaede hurried off down the hall. As soon as she was gone, Kirumi sat down on her bed, breathing unsteadily.

With what little information she had, she began to plot.

 

 

An hour and forty-five minutes ago, Kirumi talked with Ryouma in one of the school’s lesser bathrooms, watching as the listlessness in his eyes turned to shock as she proposed her idea, and then from shock to comprehension when she brandished the stainless steel handcuffs confiscated from the storage room earlier.

Ignoring again the shaking of her hands, she scuffed them against the nearby basin. Understanding touching the grim smile on his face, he turned on the faucet in the sink and closed the drain.

 

 

An hour and thirty-nine minutes ago, Kirumi lay down Ryouma’s dead body on the bathroom floor, his lungs full of water and a carefully-torn scrap of Kirumi’s left glove curled into the palm of his clammy fist.

She drained the sink, closing his glassy eyes, knowing full-well they would never stop haunting her.

_Filthy, traitorous, (rotten, rotten, rotten) Kirumi Toujou._

 

 

An hour and thirty-seven minutes ago, Kirumi exited the bathroom quietly, and pretended for twenty minutes more to be tidying the bookshelves in the library. As she made her way to an odd-shaped door on the far side of the room, Rantarou entered, looking somewhat lost.

“Ah! Toujou-san,” he greeted, offering a small wave. While his talent remained a mystery, he did seem to be in all aspects a kind and respectable man. She nodded to him, but did not look up from her task of dusting the shelves. Rantarou flipped through the library’s book selection aimlessly whilst Kirumi moved ever closer to the strange door.

Then, a light flashed on the wall, followed by a faint, but resounding click. Rantarou looked up from the current book he was reading, moving over to stand beside where she had frozen, scrutinizing the shelves.

“What was that?” He asked. Kirumi frowned.

“I am… unsure.”

She had plans to investigate the source further, approaching what looked to be a camera cautiously, but it was at that moment Gonta’s horrified yelp reverberated across campus. Rantarou traded her a startled look.

_A body has been discovered!_

An hour and seventeen minutes ago, they began the investigation, and the two of them hurried to meet up with the others. As they left, they did not hear the snap and thud of a shot-put ball clattering uselessly to the floor.

 

 

The trial was grueling. She wanted to confess, to tell them it was her from the moment it started so that her true plan could be set in motion, but in the end she left too little evidence and there were too few believable alibis for it to be obvious, and the guilt glued her tongue to the roof of her mouth.

The argument itself danced back and forth between potential culprits, helped along by Kokichi placing the crime on whomever he pleased, and when the blame suddenly shifted from Korekiyo to Tsumugi, a sudden and overwhelming instinct surged within Kirumi and she jumped to the cosplayer’s defense. Shuichi was quick to follow, and the grateful, but startled look Tsumugi shot them both was almost enough to release the shame lodged like a shard of glass in her throat.

Instead, she offered her a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and _that_ was when she noticed— Maki Harukawa was paying attention.

The Ultimate Child Caregiver was the key to her success, as well as her downfall, Kirumi knew, so she met the other girl’s gaze evenly. The guilt burning within her was momentarily replaced by a fearless, terrifying apathy that felt dangerously close to despair. Maki’s merlot gaze narrowed in scrutiny, as if she had just noticed something off about the Ultimate Maid’s behavior. Yet, she said nothing. Kirumi wondered why that was.

A twisted sort of emotion turned corners of Kirumi’s lips further upwards, and she gave her classmate a consoling nod, if concern was the cause of her silence. However, Maki’s frown only deepened in confusion. At least, until Kirumi slowly and very deliberately lifted her left arm as if to adjust her headband, the sleeve slipping down just enough to reveal the torn fabric of her glove.

Maki’s eyes widened in an uncharacteristic display of emotion— confusion? Realization? Horror? It didn’t matter, because the deed was done and the despair had nestled itself comfortably between her lungs. Yet, even in the face of certain death, she remained unafraid.

Maki opened her mouth, hesitating only briefly, and Kirumi finally recognized the flash of emotion in her eyes—

Understanding. A sad sort of respect. Disappointment. Evidently, death and guilt were familiar concepts to the caregiver. An interesting discovery, to ponder what Maki had seen, but regardless, Kirumi shook her head to the unspoken question. She knew the consequences of her actions, and accepted them readily. It was time to end this.

Emboldened, Maki pushed on.

“Kirumi-san, what happened to your glove?”

 

 

Shuichi pieced together the crime beautifully, eyes brightening with clarity as every fragment of evidence fell into place. Pride burned within her for his efforts, somewhere, but the pride was not as painful a heat as the searing guilt that stabbed at her chest with every wide, disbelieving look Kaede sent her. She wasn’t sure what to make of it, and refused to let herself linger on what the blonde would think of her now.

Was she disgusted by her fellow classmate, who had just earlier been consoling her in a moment of rare weakness? Did she regret her offer to help Kirumi in the kitchen, knowing now she had been in the presence of a murderer? Was she mulling over her words, wondering if she could have stopped this, unaware that she had been the true instigator?

Whatever it was it didn’t matter. It was too late to change anything now.

Still, when all was said and done, the vote passed unanimously and Kirumi condemned to her fate, Kaede begged for an explanation— as if she truly wanted to understand her motives.

“Why?” She asked, voice ragged and soft. “You’re not— it wasn’t in cold blood. You’re not that kind of person. So _why_?”

Kirumi took one, two breaths to steady herself, and began.

When she spoke, her voice was surprisingly calm, every word careful and deliberate. In no rush, she explained Ryouma’s willingness to help her, his willingness to risk everything, the two of them gladly putting their lives on the line to ensure the survival of the masses. Very purposefully, she kept Kaede’s say in the decision out of it, but when she met her watery gaze across the room, tears dripping down the pianist’s chin, Kirumi knew Kaede was catching on. She put on her best placating smile, the ache in her heart demanding she do something more, but in the end, survival demanded she stay in one place, and duty demanded that she speak.

“Do not linger on my death,” she said, fully aware of Monokuma’s growing impatience. “Learn from this. Take this as an example. No one else needs to die to this twisted game. Ryouma and I both agreed to do this so that you all would live— do not waste it. Do not waste his sacrifice. No matter what the motives are, no matter _what_ Monokuma says, you are stronger than this. You are all stronger, so you must _stay together_. I believe in all of you, and you all must promise me you will never abandon each other, no matter what.” She swallowed hard as the words caught in her throat, but did not shy away. “And I… I am truly sorry it had to end like this.”

She made sure to meet everyone’s gazes individually, and the reactions were widely varied, but she could not— would not— back down. But reaching Kaede again, who now sobbed openly, cracked her, her stoic mask faltering into a weary wince, eyes burning with self-reproach, though she did not cry— she couldn’t afford to, knowing the events to come and what she needed to do.

Kirumi forced one last smile at them all, and no matter what she did to try and stop them, the tears finally slipped down her cheeks. “Live on. I will… I will do my utmost to fulfill this final request.”

Realization swept Kaede’s expression, suddenly, and the other girl opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, Monokuma decided he’d had enough of waiting. He lifted the hammer to smash the ominous red button before him, and Kirumi _ran._

 

 

There was a mob. There was a mob and the voices bit at her ears like gnats or horseflies but she pressed onwards, sprinting through the grayed bodies until the crowd grew too thick. They started pushing her back, yelling things like “ _Death to the Prime Minister!”_ and “ _Long live despair!”_

Distantly, she could hear the others yelling from the courtroom— were they— were they _cheering her on?_ She could not allow herself to linger on that thought, barely dodging a thrown sign that blurred past her head like a bullet, but it was at once comforting and heartbreaking that they would support her, despite the fact that she was a murderer and deserved to die.

She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment to block out the pointed fingers and violent phrases pervading her senses. When she opened her eyes, the glare she leveled the crowd with was calm, but that did little to stymy their apparent rage.

So. She hadn’t been fast enough, in the end.

Then, Tenko’s voice cut through the crowd, but only barely— “ _Toujou-san, look up!”_

Out of almost nowhere, a vine sagged into view, sickly green and covered in thorns, but upon looking up, there was a hole in the roof through which light poured.

_Escape?_

She knew that the vine was exactly where Monokuma wanted her to go, but she had no choice as the grayscale mob advanced like hungry lions. Above all the ruckus she could hear Kaede’s voice, broken, but infinitely strong, brilliant and shining like a beacon with hope—

“ _Climb!”_

She did.

The thorns sank deep into her hands, punching through her gloves and staining the vine crimson with every foot she gained, but with Kaede’s voice at her back and the mob’s paper signs licking at the soles of her shoes, she climbed.

And then the saws peeled themselves from the walls and Kirumi knew.

True despair— she realized— did not feel not cold, or hot, or like lightning beneath her skin. True despair was an absence of _everything_. It was… almost an exhilarating feeling, almost exhilarating enough to make her want to let go entirely, but a chorus of united voices screamed her name from below, and she sucked in an unsteady breath, schooled her face into a grimace, and pushed on.

 

 

The blades cut deep, tearing away both flesh and blood with terrible ease. Each cut drew out another scream, each inch up the vine dragging on her hands and shoulders, blood dripping from her skin and falling into the abyss of bodies and spinning blades below, but she had come too far to fall now.

She was so _close_. The sun hit her cheeks, hot where the light touched, and she looked up, astounded, afraid. Her classmates’ cheering, the riot below— it all seemed so distant now. All that mattered was her and this small opening to freedom.

Was this where it ended?

She reached upwards with one hand, hopeful but hesitant, because she knew it couldn’t be that easy— Monokuma was crueler than that, she _knew_ , but the suffocating despair boiling within her wouldn’t stop her from trying, so she reached for the thin ring of yellow grass peeking over the edge of the opening, fingertips almost brushing the surface before the brilliant image above was replaced by crayon scrawls and a paper sky.

The vine strained and then snapped, and for one breathtaking moment, she fell.

_No._

The violent refusal of her fate blazed through her body like wildfire, an explosion of hope banishing the despair from her chest, her wide, apathetic gaze sharpening with determination.

_No!_

In a final explosion of adrenaline, her hand surged upwards, latching onto what little remained of the thorny rope. Each spike dug deep into her hand; she screamed in pain, in victory, in despair, but she didn’t let go, and with her other fist she struck upwards, praying for a miracle, praying that the sky still waited on the other side, praying for anything other than stone and metal and darkness—

Her fist tore through the paper drawing and into the fresh air above. She didn’t hesitate, digging her fingers into the dry soil and crackling grass until she had a grip, and with a grunt of effort she hauled herself upwards and out of the hole, just before a metal door hidden within the small opening banged shut.

Kirumi knelt there for a while, blood seeping into the grass, staring infinitely upwards at the idyllic, partly-cloudy sky. The adrenaline still pumped in her veins, but after a few minutes, it died away, leaving her cold and trembling and tired and in almost more pain than she could bear.

But she was _alive._ And that meant, with luck, she could get everyone else out, too.

Drenched in blood, splayed across a bed of an earth she couldn’t remember, Kirumi wept. Even with her murky memory, she couldn’t remember ever having cried so hard, but she deserved this. She had, after all, just escaped what could have easily been the most hellish, twisted game on earth.

In that moment, she felt so very alive, but the hot blood streaking down her skin was a painful reminder that it wasn’t over yet. She still had to find help. She still had to get the others out.

Reluctantly, gravity working adamantly against her, she stood, beginning the long, slow trek to the smoking city on the horizon.

Kirumi knew that she would leave a trail of blood behind her. Had she the materials or any fabric to spare, it would take little time and effort to wrap the wounds just enough to prevent further damage, but the razors had all but reduced her uniform to shreds, and the wounds were too deep and too numerous for her to do much of anything except keep walking.

Every step she took throbbed, her adrenaline long-since spent, but if she could not hide, then she had no choice but to keep walking until she found help.

She spared a glance backwards at the immense, black dome that encased the rest of her classmates.

She would get them out, no matter what it took. She just… she just needed to find help. Surely there were survivors out here, right? Because if not, then Hoshi died for nothing.

Kirumi squeezed her eyes shut. _And I killed him for nothing._

“There has to be someone,” she murmured. “Someone… something… there has to be.”

Inhaling shakily, she pressed on. One foot in front of the other.

 

 

How long she’d been walking, she couldn’t remember. Days, at the very least. Her formerly steady pace had been reduced to a staggered limp, her vision swaying and hazed with black dots. Her free hand clutched at the deepest cut in her left arm, which had yet to stop bleeding. She was now in the midst of the remnants of a broken city, fractured cement and broken glass crunching beneath her feet. Distantly, she could hear the grinding gears of the Exisals as they hurried after her bloody trail.

She wouldn’t make it.

A cough rose in her chest and when she moved to hide it blood spattered across the tatters of her glove. Violent shivers racked her body, exhaustion finally winning out over her willpower, and she fell to her knees, glass and gravel biting at the exposed skin. Weakness was a thick and sickening feeling, but she had not the strength to stand anymore. Every cut she had earned in her mad escape from the dome burned in the tangy, metallic air. It was probably more smoke than oxygen at this point, clogging her lungs and bashing at her sleepless eyes.

Kirumi felt the hot liquid pooling at the bottom of her throat and coughed again, the wet, raspy sound loud in the utter silence, red dots spraying across the ground, and then her strength gave out and she collapsed completely.

So she’d finally hit her limit, and she’d accomplished nothing. Hoshi’s death, inevitably, was wasted. Had she not already wasted her tears at the closed opening of her escape, the thought would have made her cry once more, but now there was only exhaustion and blood.

Hoshi died for nothing. _(and you are a killer and everything you gave your classmates was false, false, false)_ All along, she’d been nothing more than an instrument to despair and everything she’d sacrificed amounted to _nothing_.

As her conscience faded, she heard rapidly approaching footsteps, and a loud, feminine voice calling, “ _Oi! We’ve got someone!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the gay comes in a few chapters so just bear with me through the character development for a bit mk
> 
> also i did my best to proofread this myself but also i proofread it at 3am so it's hit and miss


	2. nothing left but the silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaede has a promise to keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> technically longer than ch. 1 but the events are not chopped up by time skips so it feels shorter. i didn’t proofread this chapter at all so if you find any typos hmu and i’ll Fix that shit.
> 
> i always thought it would be more interesting if kirumi had killed on request bc, as shown, clearly she can Do That but i digress
> 
> anyways, here’s the lowkey gay internet-explorer-grade-slow burn interlude no one asked for

There was a long moment of silence in which everyone stared. They had all heard the buzz of the saws, the raucous mob, Kirumi’s broken voice crying out with every cut— the snap of the vine, deafening, and then everything had stilled. Any second now, they would hear the sickening crack of Kirumi’s body dropping to the floor. Kaede was sure of it, sweat and tears dripping down her face in equal measure.

No one breathed. No one dared to. None of them wanted to miss this— this potentially life-changing event that evidently not even Monokuma had predicted. In the moment, nothing moved. The world slowed to a stop.

And then they heard it— a scream, broken, yet determined, and from the corner of her eye she saw Monokuma frantically pressing buttons, shortly followed by the sound of metal doors slamming shut.

She waited. Nothing. No sound to indicate Kirumi had fallen; there was only silence. Shuichi turned to face her, hesitation and trepidation written all over his face— she could only assume she bore a similar expression. Anticipation was a cold, electric presence in her veins, and her hands trembled in its wake. She wanted, desperately, for any confirmation that Kirumi had either lived _or_ died— though she prayed for the former— but Monokuma was unmoving.

Unsurprisingly, Miu was the one to break the silence.

“D-Did she…?”

Kaito shook his head, scratching at his neck. “We didn’t hear her fall…”

“Gonta thinks…”

“Holy shit—“

“Don’t jump to conclusions…”

No one dared to say it aloud, afraid to entertain even the slightest glimmer of hope that perhaps— perhaps Kirumi truly _had_ escaped. All they had to hold on to was the belief that the Ultimate Maid, torn but alive, was on her way to get help as they spoke, to rescue them from this nightmare. There had been no body at the bottom of the tunnel after the last defiant cry echoed into the courtroom.

All eyes were trained on Monokuma, silently pleading for a response. The bear was still unresponsive by the control panel he’d pulled out of seemingly nowhere, staring at the screen.

Finally, he spoke, uncharacteristically calm as he did.

“The blackened, Kirumi Toujou, the Ultimate Maid, murderer of Ryouma Hoshi… has escaped the Killing Game.”

Kaede laughed. Weakly, at first, though it steadily rose in volume as the bear’s words sank in.

_Kirumi escaped._

Slowly, the others began to join in, until half the class was crying and the other half was bursting with joy. Tenko had picked Himiko up was was spinning her in the air. The mage looked dizzy and uncomfortable, but didn’t complain. Kaito was slapping Shuichi on the back as he choked back tears. Korekiyo’s eyebrows were raised, as if they were impressed or pleased with the trial’s unexpected proceedings. Kaede could only guess at what expression truly lied beneath the mask. Angie had a smile plastered onto her face, but her blue eyes were completely devoid of emotion. Tsumugi, too, was smiling, but it looked unsettled, almost disbelieving. Kaede understood the feeling.

Kirumi— Kirumi escaped. She would save them— Kaede had not a doubt in her mind that that was true. However, it was Kokichi’s slithering tone that cut across the celebration, addressing Monokuma directly.

“Does that mean she won, then? Are the rest of us to be executed?”

Kaede froze, something cold like dread settling over her shoulders. It made sense, after all— the blackened had managed to escape the game. Technically, that meant she had won, and the rest of them were to be executed for their failure.

Monokuma paused a moment, then burst out in a fit of cackles, his voice once again hoarse and high and grating.

“Bahahaha! That wouldn’t be _beary_ nice of me, would it?! Of course she didn’t win! My Monokubs will find her in no time, especially with all the blood she’s leaving around! Until then, you kids aren’t done yet!”

Kaede’s heart stuttered in her chest. This was somehow worse than a simple execution— now, it was a man hunt. Had Monokuma intentionally let her go? To give them all false hope? She refused to accept that. Kirumi’s life meant more than that. All she had sacrificed, all she had risked… none of that was for naught.

She slammed her hands down on her podium, drawing the attention of her classmates instantly.

“No!” she yelled, glaring down at the giggling bear. “We must have faith in Kirumi-san! She sacrificed everything to ensure we would live, strengthened only by the faith that we would place our trust in each other to keep going! We _must_ place that same trust in her, as well as each other.”

She met Shuichi’s cool gaze, and he nodded in quiet encouragement. The gesture brought a tentative grin to her lips.

“So please, all of you, believe in her. Believe that she will find help and get us out of this place. We’re stronger together. All we need to do is stay strong until she comes back. I— _we_ made her a promise.”

Rantarou tilted his head, frowning. “But you don’t know that she’ll come back at all. After all, she killed Hoshi-san— what’s to say that she won’t take her newfound freedom and abandon us?”

Kaede inhaled sharply, gripping the edge of the podium so hard her knuckles were white.

“Because—“ her voice caught, and she forced herself to look away from Maki’s suddenly intense glare. “Because saving everyone was my last request to her. And she never accepts a request she can’t complete.”

A gasp rippled through them. Even Maki looked mildly surprised, if the way her hands twitched and her eyes narrowed briefly was any indicator. Guilt gnawed at her heart, and she let go of the podium to clasp her hands before her and bow deeply.

“I-I’m sorry, everyone. Kirumi-san probably did all this because of me. Because of me, Hoshi-kun is dead and I… I never meant—“

“Akamatsu-san!”

That was Kiibo, his expression as intense as ever, but a foreign and gentle look in his eyes.

“Thank you.”

Kaede was stunned.

“Huh?”

Kaito nodded eagerly, shooting her a thumbs up.

“Yeah! Thanks to you, Kirumi, and Hoshi-kun, we actually have a shot at making it out of here!”

Miu shrugged. “Yeah, Kaeidiot. I’m sick of this fucking shitshow. You and what’s-her-name-maid-fetish did more than any of us. Like, come on, my camera didn’t do jack _fucking_ shit in the end.”

Kaede flinched at the mention of the camera, but kept her smile in place. She couldn’t let them know about the trap she’d made that afternoon. She couldn’t let them know how, when she heard the body announcement play, she thought it would be her own trial, not Kirumi’s. They looked up to her, and to think she had been so willing to betray them all on the slim chance she’d kill the mastermind. What a disgusting person.

Angie laughed, her smile still constant on her face— it looked so natural, but something was clearly off.

“God doesn’t forgive murderers,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “He hasn’t decided what to think about you yet, Kaede, but Kirumi still killed someone, and God says that’s unforgivable!”

Himiko only shrugged, tilting her hat over her eyes and looking away. This whole trial thing had probably been exhausting for her, especially considering its dramatic end.

“Well, well, well! This is becoming much more interesting than I thought!” Kokichi placed his hands behind his head, grinning widely.

Tenko scowled at him, but made no comment, instead focusing on Kaede as well.

“Tenko… is sad that someone needed to die, even if it was a male degenerate like Hoshi-san, but she is grateful that she has a chance to make it out alive.”

Kaede could feel the tears stinging in her eyes, and wiped at them to hold them back as best she could, but it was a futile effort. Shuichi carefully placed a hand on her shoulder, and she leaned into the touch. Not that she needed the reassurance— no, it was more to hide the shame bubbling beneath her skin.

“And with that,” Monokuma chirped, summoning the elevator once more. “This trial is officially over!”

 _Yeah,_ Kaede thought, scrubbing her face on her sleeve as Shuichi led her out of the room, back to the elevator. His gentleness was a welcome comfort. _But now, the waiting game begins. And that’s going to be the real test. I’ll do my best to keep everyone together, but after that… will it be enough?_

All that answered her was the thrum of the elevator beginning its skyward climb.

 

 

It was the morning after.

The cafeteria made no sound. Not even Kokichi was talking. A gaping hole had appeared in the class’s ranks where Kirumi and Ryouma used to be, and with them gone— especially the Ultimate Maid— there wasn’t really a reason for anyone to be talking. It was almost comical, how no one realized how essential Kirumi and Ryouma had been until there was no low baritone serving as the harsh reality to an otherwise blinding optimism, keeping their heads level. There was no steady hand and gentle word tending to whatever beck or call, no sound of controlled bustling in the kitchen.

Kaede felt as if she would drown in the silence if it continued any longer, but she didn’t have anything left to say. It was all she could do to simply keep her mind off of everything that had happened. She doubted she would ever forget the feeling of running into the bathroom and finding Ryouma’s corpse, eyes half-lidded, expression peaceful, skin cold and wet.

She had felt sick, stunned, saddened, and lost all at once. Yet, even then, even throughout the whole trial and investigation, not once had she ever hated Ryouma or Kirumi for what they both agreed to. In the end, they were just trying to keep everyone alive in their own roundabout way, to no fault but her own. Inadvertently she had made a request to Kirumi— who accepted it, fully knowing the potential consequences of doing so.

Ryouma had only died because Kaede bid it. The thought sickened her. And even then, to think she would go so far as to attempt murder herself—

No. There was no time to dwell on any of that now. Kirumi and Ryouma had entrusted her with everyone’s care. Inadvertently, Kirumi had made a request to her, and what was the point of such a brutal execution if she didn’t fulfill it? That had been the Ultimate Maid’s one chance to be selfish, and in the end, the choice she made had been more selfless than anything Kaede could ever imagine doing herself.

It was decided, then. She would keep Kirumi’s vision alive, no matter what.

Clearing her throat to gain everyone’s attention, she stood from her seat. Their faces were all somber, save for Kokichi and Angie, who maintained a wolfish smirk and plastic smile respectively.

“Alright, everyone,” she said, voice wavering only slightly. “Sitting around doing nothing helps no one. So what I— what I’m going to do is assign jobs.”

Miu let out a dissatisfied squawk. “Hah? Jobs? How the fuck’s that gonna help?”

Kaede shot her a scowl, and the Ultimate Inventor immediately quieted. Korekiyo, however, nodded, placing a hand on their chin thoughtfully.

“Jobs will keep people both busy and in groups, and hopefully bring us closer together as a class and as a whole. That is your logic, yes?”

Kaede nodded.

“There’s going to be a whole lot of nothing to do while we wait for Kirumi to get help. If we have jobs and tasks to keep ourselves busy, we’ll all function better. We won’t spend so much time worrying. In theory, at least.”

Shuichi had a hand on his chin, hat tipped down in contemplation. Having his verdict on this would be useful, she supposed. He was the Ultimate Detective, after all. She was only the Ultimate Pianist, working under a silly assumption that her classmates operated the same as her. It sounded stupid in hindsight, but she thought the idea was still a valid one, regardless.

Shuichi opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, Gonta shot upright.

“Gonta want to help!”

Kaede blinked at him for a moment. She hadn’t expected anyone to jump onboard the idea so quickly. After a moment of stunned silence, Shuichi stood as well, though he seemed to flinch under the thirteen other stares now directed at him.

“I— well, it makes sense, doesn’t it? It’s like Shinguuji-san said— if we’re all consistently staying busy or are focused on a collaborative job or objective, there will be less time to contemplate motives or— or killing one another. We won’t feel as driven to commit another murder, I think. Regardless, I don’t see any downside to it. Without Toujou-san here—” there was a collective flinch at those words. “—the school won’t be as… well-maintained.” He quieted briefly, averting his gaze to the ground and pulling his hat further over his eyes. “I believe it would be a great disservice to her if we did not honor her memory.”

A long silence passed over the room after Shuichi sat back down. When he did, she squeezed his arm in thanks, and he shot her a fragile smile in response, despite still looking terribly doleful. After several minutes passed and no one stood to speak again, Kaede figured it was her turn once more.

She had a promise to keep.

“So, are we all in agreement, then?” she asked. An uncertain murmur passed through her classmates. She sighed. “Well, alright, then how about a vote? Raise your hand if you’re willing to at least try the idea.”

Shuichi, Gonta, Korekiyo, Tenko, Rantarou, Kaito, and Tsumugi all raised their hands.

“And those who aren’t?”

Angie, Miu, and an incredibly bummed Kokichi were the only ones to raise their hands. Kiibo, Maki, and Himiko made no indication that they had a preference to either side.

Seven to three. That was a majority. Kaede hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until now, when the shaky exhale wracked her lungs. Thankfully, she recovered quickly enough, turning to where Angie and Miu sat together.

“Your vote was overruled. Are you two still alright with helping out? If not… well, I don’t care what you do as long as it doesn’t bother the rest of us, but I’d still appreciate whatever help you can offer.”

Angie laughed and saluted playfully, looping her other arm through Miu’s, leaving the inventor to sputter.

“Angie’s fine helping. Her God is sleeping now, so Angie think’s it is A-OK if she plays along! And Miu’s going to help too, right?” Angie turned to Miu, something of a hard edge in her smile. Judging by Miu’s expression, the artist had backed her into a corner.

“I— ugh. Fine. W-whatever. Sure, I’ll fuckin’ help.”

Angie turned back to Kaede, her grin brighter than ever, though Kaede still felt unsettled by the unwavering presence of it. Yet, the two of them had agreed to help, leaving only Kokichi out of the group system. Trying to convince him to cooperate was a task she didn’t even want to attempt, nor did she want to put anyone else through the pain of doing it. He had already proven himself largely ill-disposed. Putting him anywhere near other people was only asking for a disaster.

Kaede tilted her head in thanks before turning back to the rest of the class, who watched her with anticipative eyes. She clapped her hands together, praying that the anxiety crawling like a thousand needles over her skin would soon fade.

“Alright. So, first and foremost, we need to assign jobs, then we can split off into groups. So, who here can cook?”

Angie’s hand shot up, followed by Korekiyo, Rantarou, and, reluctantly, Maki. Kaede was surprised by how few of them there were— not that she was one to talk, knowing only what Kirumi had taught her and how long to microwave a packet of ramen, but she had expected at least Tenko or Tsumugi. Had they all been relying on Kirumi that much?

“Well, since there’s only four of you, I suppose you all can be in charge of food supply and cooking.”

Rantarou nodded with an easy smile. “Works for me! My memory may be a bit foggier than the rest of yours, but for some reason I can remember a ton of recipes. Who knows, maybe I’m secretly the Ultimate Chef.”

Angie laughed. “Same with Angie! Angie’s head is full of holes, but she knows she’s good with fish!”

“How interesting,” Korekiyo said, tilting their head. “We remember such basic information, yet the core pieces of ourselves remain a mystery. Anywho, the same goes for myself. If these memories of mine are true, then I, too know how to cook.”

Maki merely gave a noncommittal shrug, folding her arms over her chest. “It’s part of my talent.”

Kaede chuckled to herself nervously at the severe answer. _I should have seen that coming. If any one of us would be able to cook, it would be Maki,_ she mused. To Maki, she nodded her thanks as well, not wanting to be rude to someone who had, albeit grudgingly, offered her help. The other girl searched her gaze for a few moments longer before scowling and looking away. Kaede didn’t want to think too hard on what that meant, but a faint pulse of pain flared at her temples from the eye contact. She rubbed it away absentmindedly.

“So, we just make sure the food’s in place and we help keep everyone fed, right?” asked Rantarou.

Kaede shook off the rest of the ache, shooting him a thumbs up. “Yep! You guys can figure out how to go about it, but if you could make sure the rest of us aren’t living off of instant ramen or toast, that would be much appreciated, I think.”

He returned the gesture, smiling easily. “Works for me. If anyone rethinks, I’ll let you know, if they don’t mind me playing top gun.”

Kaede opened her mouth to respond, but the sound of someone clearing their throat from the cafeteria’s door caused her to pause and shift her attention to the new presence. When she saw what made the noise, her brows immediately drew together, lips curling downwards.

“Monokuma.”

The bear laughed at the barrage of glares he received.

“Helloooo! Looks like you guys are having a good time! Let me join in.”

Kaede’s frown deepened. “What do you want?”

“Gah! So rude! I offer you all such hospitality and this is the thanks I get?! Kids these days…”

Kaito made a primal sort of snarling sound and slammed his fists down on the table.

“Stop playing around!”

Monokuma scoffed. “Oh, fine, fine. I only came here to give you all a reward for surviving the first trial!”

A reward? This couldn’t mean anything good. If anything, this “reward” was probably just another motive or some way to move the killing game along. No matter what it was, Kaede had already decided on rejecting it.

Tsumugi blinked. “A reward…? What do you mean?”

Monokuma fell into another bout of laughter, his jagged red eye glinting dangerously, before waving with one of his paws.

“Kids! Bring in the prize!”

There was a puff of thick smoke that left Kaede spluttering for breath and a chord of music. When the smoke cleared, only the green Monokub, Monodam, was standing there, holding something in his arms. Monokuma yelped at the sight.

“Where are the rest of them?! If they slept in, they’re really gonna get it!”

Monodam’s head was tilted towards the floor, expression unmoving.

“NO-ONE-IS-LEFT.”

Monokuma’s betrayed squawk matched the emotion that pierced through Kaede’s stomach like a bullet, arms going slack and falling to her sides in surprise. Monokuma had sent his children to kill Kirumi. If Monodam was the only one left, did that mean Kirumi had truly made it to safety? The thought filled her with hope. They had a chance.

Monokuma recovered quickly enough.

“Well, they were useless anyways. Anyways, reveal the prizes, Monodam!”

Monodam stepped up to her, opening his metal paws to present their contents. Within them lied four small, misshapen metal keys of differing colors. Kaede scooped them from his grasp.

“Where do they lead?” asked Shuichi from behind her as he peered over her shoulder.

“EXPLORE-THE-SCHOOL. YOU-MUST-FIND-OUT-YOURSELF.”‘

There was another obnoxious blast of smoke. When it cleared, Monodam was gone, just as promptly and mysteriously as he’d arrived. Monokuma, however, was still present.

Korekiyo tilted their head. “Did you have anything else for us?”

“So greedy! But no, I don’t have anything else, other than some beary big news! Several of your Ultimate Labs have opened up! Better hurry and find out whose!”

After his message, Monokuma, too, disappeared out the door from which he’d came, leaving the batch of confused and suspicious teenagers behind him. Kaede watched him until she was sure he was gone before turning back to the others.

“Looks like we’ll have to cut this discussion short until tomorrow. Right now, we’ve got four keys. I think it’ll help to split up into groups here as well, so we can cover more ground. I’ll take the blue key and try to figure where it leads. Korekiyo-san, Angie, Himiko, will you take the yellow one?”

Angie plucked the lightning-shaped key from Kaede’s grasp with a giggle, grabbing Korekiyo’s hand in the next instant and tugging them out of the door Monokuma had exited through. Despite Angie being far shorter, Korekiyo struggled to keep up. Himiko plodded after them— Kaede hoped she didn’t get lost or left behind.

Kaede held the next key, a green, wavy one, out to Rantarou.

“Will you take Ouma, Tsumugi, Kaito, and Gonta to find where this one goes?”

“Gladly! C’mon, guys. And Shirogane, of course.”

The five of them left as well, their voices carrying out into the hall until they vanished entirely. Now, that raised the question— who should she give the last key to? The only people left in the cafeteria were Kiibo, Miu, Tenko, Shuichi, and Maki. Shuichi was an obvious choice, but if the group was to survive, she figured she needed to place her trust in more people. So, she extended the red, flute-like key to Maki. The Ultimate Child Caregiver’s eyes widened at the gesture.

“Maki, will you take Kiibo, Tenko, and Shuichi with you? Find out what this one leads to?”

Maki glared at the proffered key as if it had somehow offended her. After a moment, she sighed and pushed Kaede’s hand away.

“No. Sorry. I have something I need to take care of.”

Kaede blinked. What else could Maki possibly need to do? Of course, there were the newly unlocked research labs. Maybe the other girl wanted to see if her lab had unlocked. If that was the case, then Kaede certainly understood. It was that understanding that caused her to nod and step aside.

“Alright. Just don’t get yourself killed, okay?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, a burst of pain lanced through her skull. She staggered slightly, both Tenko and Shuichi surging forward to catch her before her knees could give out. She could only see Maki through eyes blurred by tears, but even still she could tell that the other girl was pressing a hand to her head as well. Kiibo had approached her, and though they weren’t touching, both of them conversed in low tones.

“Kaede-san! Are you okay?” Was that Shuichi? She couldn’t tell. The pain was making her dizzy.

( _Kaede handed Maki her coat at the door, a fond smile on her face._

 _“Just don’t get yourself killed, okay?”_ )

“I’m alright, it’s fine,” Kaede said, gently pushing them aside as the ache— and the memory— receded. She scanned the area next to Kiibo for Maki, but the caregiver was already gone. That was fine— the two of them could decipher the memory together at a later date. Right now they had keys to figure out.

She held out the red key to Tenko instead, startling her.

“Tenko, can you take Kiibo and Shuichi with you and figure out what this one does?”

Hesitantly, Tenko reached out to cradle the key in her palms, a look of fierce determination overcoming her bewildered expression.

“Of course! You can count on Tenko!”

She stormed out of the room, Kiibo and Shuichi hot on her heels, leaving her alone with… Miu. Miu had hardly said anything throughout the whole exchange, and was now staring at Kaede with a weird look in her eyes.

“Come on, Miu,” Kaede said slowly, not wanting to startle Miu out of whatever weird trance she’d fallen into. Yet, her words alone seemed to flick a switch in the Ultimate Inventor, and she huffed, tugging at her strange necklace.

“Fine. Let’s hurry the fuck up. Sitting around doing nothing is shit for your skin, you know.”

Kaede sighed. This was going to be a long trip.

 

 

By the time of the groups eventually reconvened in the dormitory commons, everyone there save for Maki, the sun had started to set outside. Angie revealed that the yellow key had opened up a strange casino place within the school complex, after which Rantarou explained how the green key had opened a wall revealing Kirumi and Gonta’s research labs. Shuichi said that the red key had opened up the pool. Kaede and Miu’s key had only opened up Himiko’s research lab, but seeing the mage’s eyes light up for the first time at the revelation made it mostly worth it.

“Oh, Kaede,” said Rantarou, snapping his fingers as if he had just remembered something. “Your lab is open now, by the way. It’s pretty neat. Huge piano. Also, we ran into Maki. Her lab is open, too, but she’s not letting anyone inside. I bet she’s in there now.”

A small weight lifted off of Kaede’s chest. “Thanks, Rantarou.”

“My pleasure. So, d‘you wanna see your lab, now? That applies to everyone whose labs just opened up. I imagine the curiosity is killing you.”

Himiko nodded with a surprising amount of vigor. “I want to see…”

Kaito saluted her, grinning. “I can take you there!”

Tenko growled. “If such a prime example of male degeneracy is going, Tenko’s going too!”

“Oh! Gonta like to come, too! Gonta show you his lab!”

The four of them departed, Tenko and Kaito bickering, Tenko’s arm hovering protectively at the small of Himiko’s back as she chatted with a very excited Gonta.

“I’m gonna go check out the casino. Sounds like my kind of place,” said Kokichi, and Kaede’s faith in her classmates increased tenfold when no one even moved to go with him.

Rantarou turned to Angie and Korekiyo. “I’m going to go with Kaede to her lab. Would you two mind getting started on dinner? Since we didn’t really have time to take inventory, I suppose making anything is fine. I’ll hurry back as soon as I can.”

Shuichi perked up. “O-oh! Would you mind if I came with you, Amami-san? To Kaede’s lab, I mean.”

“Of course!” Kaede replied for the green-haired boy, glad for the company. “Lead on, Rantarou.”

Rantarou gave a mock bow, leading them out of the commons area and back towards where Kaede remembered her Ultimate Lab sat. He pushed open the door with ease as soon as they got there, revealing a room filled to the brim with music sheets, records, and CDs, but the grand piano serving as a centerpiece to the room was what really drew Kaede’s eye.

She brushed her fingers along the keys, marveling in the way it was untouched by dust, before sitting at the bench. It was perfectly adjusted to her height— which was unsettling until she remembered that this lab _was_ specifically designed for her.

Rantarou cleared his throat from the doorway as he leaned against it, hands shoved deep into his pockets. Both Kaede and Shuichi turned to him.

“Alright, well, I’ve gotta go make sure Angie and Kiyo aren’t performing a blood ritual in our dinner. We’ll be eating late, by the way. See you around!”

He waved as he left, closing the door behind him gently. For a long moment, Kaede and Shuichi lingered in silence— Kaede at the piano and Shuichi hovering awkwardly by the bench.

“Are you going to play anything?” the Ultimate Detective finally asked, stepping a few inches closer. Kaede blinked. That’s right— the whole reason she had come here in the first place was to play her heart out. What was she doing, staring off into space like that?

“Yeah. Yeah! I am. I just… need to think of a song.”

Something to combat all the day’s stress and intense emotions. _La Campanella?_ No, that was too intense. _Chopin’s Berceuse?_ No, that didn’t quite capture the emotion. Many songs flitted across her conscious, her fingers waiting in anticipation, splayed across the keys, until just the right song came to mind and she eased into the first few notes of _Clair de Lune._

The piano had always come naturally to her. This, at the very least, she knew was fact, not fabrication. Piano had always been her everything, her go to when things were hard, or when things were easy, the life blood pumping through her heart. Music was so much easier to understand than people. The dance of her fingers across the keys was the only dance she knew and could perform with such grace— it was her Ultimate Talent, after all. She’d hardly had the time to dedicate to anything else.

Her eyes slipped shut, knowing the keys and the piece by heart, letting memory and instinct guide her, and when _Clair de Lune_ came to an end, she just as effortlessly picked up on _Liebestraum,_ and from _Liebestraum_ to _Fantasie Impromptu._ Song after song spilled from her fingertips, filling her lab with the only sound that would ever truly be home to her.

She had just brought _Solfeggietto_ to a close when she felt a tap on her shoulder. It was Shuichi, as she had expected, though his presence still startled her— she’d completely forgotten that he was in the room with her.

“They’re calling for dinner,” he said softly. “You played beautifully, by the way. I’ve never heard anything like it.”

Kaede flushed at the praise as they exited the room. “A-ah, thanks! I think I got so absorbed in the music that I forgot there was the whole rest of the world.”

“I could tell. I wasn’t sure where one song stopped and the next began. Do you usually do that?”

“I—” she frowned when the answer did not immediately come to her. Was this something that had been taken from her? From the gaping whole in her knowledge of the matter, it was safe to assume that was the case. “I don’t know, actually.”

As they walked past the stairway to the second floor, an idea struck her, and she paused. Shuichi noticed a few seconds later, stopping as well.

“Akamatsu-san? Is something wrong?”

“No, I just thought of something. Just keep going without me, I’m going to check something really quickly.”

“Oh. Are you sure you don’t need me to come with you?”

“I’ll be fine. Seriously, Shuichi, trust me on this.”

“...If you say so. I’ll come looking if you’re gone to long.”

The _to make sure you’re not dead_ went unspoken, but she heard it all the same. She left him with a nod before hurrying up the steps to the second floor, and from there to the third floor. It didn’t take long to find what she was looking for— Maki was leaning against the wall next to a red door, eyes half-lidded, arms folded loosely over her stomach. She looked up when Kaede was a few steps away.

“I already told the others. You can’t go in.”

Kaede shook her head. “That’s not what I’m here for.”

“Then what do you want?” Maki asked, eyes narrowing imperceptibly. Kaede held her hands up in surrender— the other girl sounded harsher than normal. She didn’t want to tread on any thinner ice than she already was.

“They’re calling for dinner.”

“Yes, I heard. Momota-san is hard not to hear.”

“Are you coming?”

“No.”

“Well,” Kaede said, and then paused, trailing off. Was this really such a good idea? Looking at Maki’s unfaltering deadpan, it probably wasn’t, but she had come this far. No point in giving up now. “Do you want me to bring you a plate? So you don’t have to leave the, um, door.”

Another long moment of silence passed between them. Kaede hoped she wasn’t sweating. That would be embarrassing. There was no need to feel nervous around Maki, even if she wasn’t the friendliest.

“That isn’t necessary,” Maki said at a length. “After tonight, I am going to barricade myself in my lab. I’m only waiting until everyone returns to their dorms so that I can get enough food from the kitchens to last.”

That was… an unexpected amount of information. Even Maki looked surprised— as much as she could, anyways— at how much had slipped past her tongue. Quickly, the caregiver shrugged, averting her gaze.

“Anyways. It’s none of your concern.”

Well, there were a number of things she could say to that, but so few of them would lead to a decent outcome. Kaede knew that whatever she said next would carry an immense amount of weight. She needed to be careful.

“That’s your decision, then. I won’t fight it. But,” Maki’s eyes shot back to hers, already narrowed in an intense scarlet focus. Kaede swallowed hard. “But what if I still brought you dinner? I really doubt eating rations or anything canned for the rest of our time here will be pleasant.”

Maki opened her mouth as if to say something, but shut it so quickly Kaede heard the bones click. She took that as her cue to continue, advancing cautiously.

“How about we make a deal. You let me bring you fresh, warm food, and I’ll make sure everyone leaves you alone about it. Except Ouma,” she added as an afterthought. “I don’t think even Angie’s god could stop him from doing what he wants.”

That prompted a small snort from Maki, as well as a small shake of her head.

“You won’t drop this until I accept, will you.”

“Probably not. Best now to concede before I force a surrender.”

“Do you _want_ to die?”

Despite everything, even the faint headache it brought on, the phrase only caused her to grin.

“Is that a yes?”

Maki rolled her eyes, but there was a certain lightness to her expression that certainly hadn’t been there before. “Fine.”

“Alright. I’ll be back in a bit, then. With actual food.”

Maki half raised her arm as if to wave as she retreated backwards down the hall, but as soon as she realized what it was doing, she glared at the offending appendage with a comical amount of betrayal on her face. Kaede couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, chuckling to herself all the way back to the cafeteria where everyone else was seated and eating. Shuichi and Rantarou both waved her over to their table, where a plate already waited for her. Rantarou gestured to it as she sat down.

“Boiled potatoes with vinegar sauce, courtesy of me, yellowtail seasoned in something that I didn’t get back in time to see but it tastes fine, and… broccolini. Korekiyo was very adamant that it isn’t just mutated broccoli, but I don’t know if I believe them.”

“It looks great! Is there any left over?”

Rantarou nodded. “Sure, but if you want seconds, you’ll have to beat both Tenko and Gonta to it, and Gonta’s already licking his plate clean.”

Shit. He ate that fast? Kaede shot back to her feet, hurrying into the kitchen where the leftover food was, quickly serving a plate for Maki just as Gonta came in seeking more potatoes. She covered the plate in saran wrap, squeezing past Tenko on her way out.

Dinner passed quickly enough after that. She, Shuichi, and Rantarou chatted amiably, disturbed only when Kokichi flung part of his fish at Kaito’s face. Kaito threw something back, but it missed and hit Himiko instead, which made Tenko angry, effectively dragging even more people into the impromptu food fight. Kaede slipped out just as she heard Miu screech— “Did you get that in my fucking _hair?_ ”

Maki’s dinner safely in her grasp, she made the trip back down the hallways alone. It may not have been dark yet, but still, the sensation of walking alone left her feeling largely unsettled and unsafe. Sure, Kirumi had killed to save all of them, but what was stopping anyone else?

 _No, don’t think of that,_ she scolded herself, climbing the stairs once more. _You need to trust them. You need to trust Kirumi, and you need to trust yourself._

When she reached the red door again, Maki hadn’t moved an inch, and was already watching her as she approached. Her gaze flicked momentarily down to the plate of food, and Kaede graciously pretended not to hear the fierce growl of the caregiver’s stomach.

“Vinegar potatoes, yellowtail, and broccolini.”

“You didn’t need to.”

“We made a deal! Of course I was going to!”

Maki huffed, but accepted the plate and fork regardless, sinking to the floor so that she could eat comfortably. Kaede debated leaving for a moment, but it felt as if some unseen force was compelling her to stay, so she sat down as well, leaning against the wall just to the side of the door, only a foot or so away from Maki.

No matter what she looked at to distract herself or what song she tapped out the rhythm to, her gaze kept returning to the red door behind Maki. What could be so important that Maki was going to barricade herself in there?

Her mouth moved before her brain could even begin to comprehend the thought.

“So, have you got actual children in there? Like, babies?”

Maki choked so violently and abruptly that Kaede was afraid, briefly, that she would accidentally become an accomplice to murder. The caregiver thumped at her chest, abandoning her plate momentarily in favor of dislodging whatever had been sucked into her lungs at Kaede’s abrupt comment.

Kaede was torn between laughing at the spectacle and doing something to help, so in the end she just sat there, watching Maki try to get herself under control with a bemused smile on her lips, hands half raised in a forgotten attempt to help.

As soon as the coughing died down and a good few seconds had passed, Maki spoke, her voice raspy from the unexpected fit.

“No. There are no children inside of my research lab.”

“Oh. That’s kind of disappointing.”

“Did you _want_ there to be children?”

“What? That’s not what I said! I just said it was disappointing!”

“As if there’s a diff—”

An electronic bell chimed over the intercom, effectively cutting Maki off, before Monodam’s voice crackled to life.

_“OFFICIAL-ANNOUNCEMENT-FROM-THE-ULTIMATE-ACADEMY… IT-IS-NOW-10-P.M. BEDTIME URSINE.”_

Kaede sighed. “That’s my cue to go.”

“Ah,” was all Maki offered in response, staring down at her now empty plate. “I’ll hold onto this. We aren’t allowed in the kitchens at night.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I wasn’t even thinking about the time.”

“It’s fine. There are more plates.”

“Yeah…”

Knees groaning in protest, Kaede stood, brushing off her skirt as she did. Maki did the same— the height difference between them was striking, Kaede noted, still reluctant to leave but well aware that she had to.

“Well, good luck barricading your lab. I’ll be back tomorrow with breakfast, alright?”

Maki hazarded a small smirk. “Sure.”

“Goodnight, Maki!”

Kaede hurried back to her room, keeping her eyes trained on the shadows and holding her breath until the lock on her door clicked shut behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maki and Kaede achieved support level C!
> 
> ok tho just as a heads up timeline might be weird in upcoming chapters bc kirumi’s POV tends to timeskip more than kaede’s, im doing my best but dont expect any consistency from me.
> 
>  
> 
> And now, it’s time to play: do i kill Kokichi bc i dont want to write for him or perpetually forget he exists until absolutely necessary, despite him being the World’s Biggest and Loudest Asshole


	3. some things only god can forgive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirumi wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorter chapter because it’s entirely dialogue and introspection and i know that gets boring in too big of doses but it’s the set up for the next few chapters so yall aren’t lost on context. no action, lots of info, and i apologize but it’s necessary :(

_You will never be fast enough you cannot escape you are a murderer you killed him you killed the man who never deserved to die and you can run you can try to run Kirumi Toujou but you will never be fast enough you can’t escape you’re falling and you need to wake up wake up_

_**wake up.** _

 

 

The first thing she heard after jolting awake, heart clenched in terror and bathed in sweat, was the droning pulse of a heart monitor. It was not a familiar sound, but it was, at least, recognizable. It did little to tell her where she was, but it was tangible proof that she was alive, at the very least. The real question was— did the Monokids drag her back to the dome, or had she managed to find help, after all?

Peeling open her eyes took a surprising amount of effort, and the brightness of the room was the first thing she realized, as it forced her to squint. The second was how remarkably stiff the rest of her body felt.

She was lying on a bed of sorts in a room that roughly resembled that of a hospital, were it not for the gray, cement walls and broken rebar pierced through the ceiling. From her admittedly poor vantage point, barely propped against two pillows, she could see various medical supplies next to a pair of wide double-doors. There was also a large TV monitor hanging in the corner of the room directly across from her bed. A black curtain shielded her from the rest.

Probably not the dome, then. Monokuma had better accommodations. So, where was she?

Kirumi went to sit up, but found that she could barely even crane her neck. Her fingers and legs didn’t budge at all. Glancing down at what little of her body she could see revealed the answer— thick, white gauze covered every inch of her skin that wasn’t beneath what appeared to be a makeshift hospital gown. That would also explain the tight feeling over the bridge of her nose and right cheek— gauze patches, skillfully placed. No random person had cared for her in her unconsciousness. Whoever had found her had to have some sort of medical specialist or preparedness for the state of the world.

Not to mention the fact that they had saved her willingly. Though, they didn’t know what she’d done, what she was, so that could hardly be helped. Whoever they were, she would have to thank them, as well as apologize.

The monitor in the corner of the room flickered to life abruptly. Kirumi jumped as a floating, humanoid head appeared on the otherwise green screen. The face— feminine in appearance, though it was somewhat blurry, peered around the room for a moment before her pale eyes landed on Kirumi. A small, easy smile made its way onto the figure’s drifting face.

“It’s good to see you awake, Kirumi,” came the face’s soft lilt from some sort of speaker system in the ceiling. “Though, it’s always good to see a familiar face, isn’t it? It’s been a while.”

After a painfully quiet moment, Kirumi realized that yes, the face was talking to her, and _no_ , no matter how much she racked her dreadfully unreliable memory, she had no idea whose face this was. The face seemed to realize this a moment later as well, as the pleasant smile across its features faded into a null sort of melancholy.

“Ah,” the face murmured, tilting slightly on the screen. “Did they take your memories too?”

“Too?” said Kirumi with a wince, startled by the meekness of her own voice. There was a hoarse edge to it now she knew hadn’t been there earlier. “What do you mean? Where am I?” Promptly, she began to cough: harsh, body-racking things that made her chest sing with pain.

The face made a quiet noise of distress.

“I’m alright,” Kirumi said, though she certainly didn’t feel it. The face narrowed its eyes, but let the issue slide with a sigh.

“I should start with the basics, for your sake. My name is Chiaki Nanami, former class president at Hope’s Peak Academy, now an AI due to a series of… um… bad events. Now, I help my classmates as they move around, trying to rebuild the world. Your name is Kirumi Toujou— we used to know each other before the Tragedy. You were in the class a year younger than mine. We weren’t friends, but you helped me out on plenty of occasions… I think. Then again, you were always helping everyone.”

“The… Tragedy?”

“Oh. They must’ve taken everything, then. The Tragedy was what caused all the killing games to start— Junko Enoshima threw the whole world into despair and trapped various groups of her former classmates in different locations, forcing them to kill each other. Me and the others were lucky enough to get stuck in a virtual reality, but only because I’d already been killed and the others helped destroy the world in the first place.”

Right. Her classmates— the whole reason she’d killed Hoshi to begin with. The thought caused her to flinch. The face— Chiaki— noticed immediately.

“Ah. Were you also stuck in one of the killing games? Hmm… that explains your current state. Mikan was really worried. Did you find the mastermind, then? That’s how Hajime and Kamukura-san got us out.”

Kirumi swallowed down something hard and warm in her throat. “I— n-no. I managed to escape.”

Chiaki’s digital eyes widened. “Oh. That’s— well. That’s a first.”

Shame and guilt writhed in her stomach. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Only barely. It… it was supposed to be my exec—”

The substance that she had choked down only moments before surged upwards, and she gagged, coughing hard into her shoulder until the phlegm was joined by dots of blood. In the corner, Chiaki looked pensive.

“I’ll call for Mikan. Actually, I’d better call for everyone. They’ve all been worried. Peko especially— you two used to be friends. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Kirumi watched with trepidation as her apparent former classmate’s face winked out of existence, leaving behind only green-tinted static on the screen. Some floors below, there was a collective yelp, then a boom as something crashed into the wall. Then, silence.

Now that she was alone, even if it was only temporary, she could finally let herself relax. She pressed into the pillows, closing her eyes, praying that the ache branching in hot tendrils throughout her body from her wounds would pass quickly.

So, she at least knew what had happened to the world, assuming Chiaki was telling the truth. That still didn’t give her any idea as to where she was. A multipurpose complex, perhaps— one that Chiaki and her classmates had been inhabiting for some time, considering how well-equipped they seemed to be.

There was a distant, but growing rush of footsteps before both doors to the room slammed open, and Chiaki’s face reappeared on the monitor. Leading the small herd of people was a blonde in a short, ruffled dress that distantly reminded her of Kaede. Following her was a man who looked surprisingly normal save his heterochromatic eyes, a toned, tan-skinned woman with unruly hair, the supposed nurse of the troupe if the white apron was anything to go by, and another woman with pale gray hair and eyes a shade so vibrantly red they could combat Maki‘s. She had a bamboo sword strapped to her back.

If she weren’t covered head to toe in gauze and spitting blood from her mouth, Kirumi would bow and thank them for their care. As it was, she could hardly move, not even to wipe the coppery red stream from her lip.

“Kirumi, this is Hajime, Sonia, Akane, Mikan, and Peko. Sonia and Hajime are our makeshift leaders, Akane and Peko were the ones who found you, and Mikan has been caring for you since you got here,” Chiaki announced, nodding to each as she said their name.

Hajime smiled and waved. Sonia’s entire demeanor was practically glowing with anticipation. Akane offered a broad grin and a thumbs up, while Peko merely gave a small nod. The nurse, Mikan, squeaked when her name was called and bowed deeply, hands fiddling with her uneven hair.

“It’s good to see you awake,” said Peko, relief flickering across her expression. Right— this was the one Chiaki said had been her friend in the life she had before the Tragedy. The idea of another life in itself seemed so foreign, not to mention the idea of her willfully having friends (because a maid was meant to serve others and no more than that, surely; was the other her so foolish?). Yet, she had nothing else to believe.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” she murmured. “I was told I used to be your classmate, but I do not remember much. That which I do likely isn’t true.”

Hajime nodded in understanding.

“To be expected. Hopefully, we can help you recover your real memories in time. We were lucky to have the resources and information on hand. You were, understandably, not so fortunate. In fact, Chiaki told us you escaped from your killing game. I didn’t think that was possible until now, but that definitely explains all the gauze.”

A wince twisted her lips and blood burbled in her throat. She could only repeat what she had told Chiaki earlier.

“Yes. I escaped, but it was…”

_The whir of the saws, rattling her to her bones, racking her body with every slash, and the thorns digging, digging—_

“…Intense.”

Mikan nodded vigorously, walking forward until she could dab at Kirumi’s mouth with a rag she had procured from seemingly nowhere.

“Y-yes! Y-you were c-covered almost entirely in l-l-lacerations, varying in i-intensity. B-by the time A-Akane-san f-found you, you’d a-almost bled out. U-um… i-if I may…how did you g-get them?”

She tried to summon the words, but the truth was lodged deep in her chest, somewhere. There were too many eyes, too many uncertainties, and there was still Kaede’s request she had to fulfill.

She settled for partials— there was something much larger than her at stake. That much needed to be made clear.

“The cuts came from buzzsaws, but that is unimportant. What truly matters is that the rest of my classmates are still stuck in the killing game. I only escaped because I was asked to protect them, with the hope that I could find help, so if… if you truly are my former classmates, then it’s entirely likely that you knew them, too.”

She stared directly at Hajime as she said it, despite Mikan’s insisting that she lay back down. Sucking in a breath, she finished, squeezing her eyes shut, fingers gripping the sheets as tightly as they could without burning in pain.

“Please, help me save them.”

Chiaki smiled from her place on the screen.

“That’s not even a question. We’ll get them out. Promise. Until then, you need to rest. Souda’s already working on something to help you with your memories. I can tell Gundham to get his Dark Devas ready, if he needs to go tracking. Though, you could always just follow the blood… like in those pixelated horror games…”

Akane huffed, stretching her arms behind her head. “Nah. Teru ‘n I’ll get it. ‘Sides, Gundham’s on Komaeda watch right now. Mahiru’s shift ended ten minutes ago.”

Chiaki‘s expression scrunched. “Yep. You two have fun.”

Sonia huffed suddenly, spinning on her heel. “Out, all of you! She needs to rest! Of course, except you, Mikan. I trust her to your care.”

“I-I’ll do m-my best!” The nurse yelped, eyes as big as saucers.

Sonia herded the others out, with even Chiaki disappearing from the monitor, but Peko lingered, her heavy gaze bearing down on Kirumi enough to make her shift in discomfort. Meanwhile, Mikan was shuffling around the room, muttering the word ‘gauze’ under her breath in a way that indicated she could not find it.

“If I may, I would like to stay, Mikan,” Peko said, her voice even.

Mikan blinked, bewildered. “A-ah, of course…?”

The swordswoman took a chair from a place by the wall, dragging it to Kirumi’s bedside before sitting. “Kirumi-san understandably will not be sleeping yet, so I’d like to question her while you work. I will not disturb you.”

Mikan nodded again, going back to poring through the shelves for gauze. She was certainly more at ease now that there were less people in the room, but it seemed being something of a scatterbrain was just in her nature.

“Top shelf, on the right,” Kirumi supplied softly. Mikan squeaked, ears flushing, but grabbed several rolls of gauze before returning to Kirumi’s side.

“I’ll j-just be r-rewrapping your h-hands,” she said, lifting one carefully and beginning to undo the dressings.

After another moment of silence, Peko spoke.

“Tell me what you remember.”

Kirumi frowned, brow furrowing. What _could_ she remember? First and foremost, she was the Ultimate Maid. She had served a great number of masters flawlessly. Many people depended on her. She might be some sort of governmental figure, though that was still in question. She had no family, her favorite color was lilac, she couldn't cut konjak, and she was somewhat better at cooking western food than traditional Japanese.

Yet, other than that…?

“Not much, I’m afraid,” she admitted. “I am the Ultimate Maid, and I have been serving others almost my entire life, but that is all.”

Peko nodded, contemplative. Mikan had almost finished unraveling the first hand, and Kirumi was terrified to see the damage, so she kept her focus rather adamantly on Peko.

“While Souda is constructing some sort of memory retrieval mechanism… if you wish, I can tell you what I remember of you and your classmates. I can imagine any sort of clarity in this situation would be… comforting.”

Peko remembered all that? And would offer such information to her willingly? Kirumi had to admit, the curiosity was eating her alive. Who was she, really?

“I— yes. I would appreciate that very much, Pekoyama-san.”

So, Peko began, sucking in a harsh breath before delving into the story, Mikan stabilizing the distasteful condition of her hands in the meantime. Peko told her stories of the years they’d all spent in Hope’s Peak Academy— a relay race, school festivals, being the only one to clean up after the schoolwide Christmas party, and missing class for the first time the next day because she slept in which ended up driving everyone into a panic.

Every new memory Peko unveiled caused another point of pressure to drill against Kirumi’s skull. By now, she was wincing more because of the headache than Mikan’s careful ministrations as she restitched some of the worst cuts along the palms of her hands.

The swordswoman told her of Kaito and his terrible ketchup incident, of how she treated Tenko’s bloody nose after she’d sparred with a woman named Sakura, followed by a recount of playing basketball with Tenko, Maki, someone named Aoi, and Peko herself. So many divulged fragments of a former life coming together one by one until…

“Ah. That’s right. One time, you helped Ryouma-san and I return a lost cat to its owner,” Peko said, a fond smile gracing her face for the first time that session. Kirumi’s heart lurched, stomach twisting into a tight knot.

“Ryouma-san and I always had a soft spot for cats. When he saw it wandering around the campus alone, he grew very upset. You happened to arrive at that moment, and offered to help us find it.”

_Running water hold him down hold him hold him don’t let him breathe he must die._

“We had others help us, too, but in the end, you were the one who found it. It liked you very much. Ryouma-san was able to find the owner from the collar, and the two of you returned it as soon as you had an address.”

_He’s drowning you’re killing him but you have to it’s your job your duty you must protect them you must complete the request he must die he must die he is a necessary sacrifice and he must die._

“The two of you used to be very close— Kirumi-san? Are you alright?”

_In the end who did you protect you are a murderer you killed him he didn’t deserve to die it was you it should have been you you you._

Kirumi slumped against the pillows, eyes tracing the grooves in the cement ceiling.

“I believe,” she murmured, now feeling very, very sick. “I believe that’s enough for now.”

Peko pursed her lips. “I apologize. You must be tired. Please, rest now. I’m sure you have much to think about.”

Kirumi nodded, the movement distant, almost autonomic. “I will try,” she said, yet even as she did she knew she would be staring into Ryouma’s unblinking gaze in every dream.

Peko left. Mikan finished changing her gauze soon after, and bid her farewell. Kirumi was unconscious before the nurse closed the doors

 

 

In her dreams, she replayed Ryouma’s death over and over and over and over, holding his head under the lukewarm water at least a hundred times before Ibuki kicked open the door to her room, bearing breakfast and a cheery tune on her lips. Kirumi’s hands trembled when she reached for the oatmeal, which tasted like honey and cinnamon, and when Ibuki left it took all of her willpower not to vomit.

_You are a fraud and you deserve to die you are a fraud and you deserve to die you are a fraud you are a fraud—_

“Nanami-san,” she called out into the room, and instantly the face appeared on the monitor.

“Hm?”

“How soon can I get my memories back?”

“Mmm, I’ll have to ask Mikan, but Kazuichi’s almost done with the pod… I think. It’ll be a few days, at most.”

Kirumi swallowed hard to force the rising lump in her throat back down. “As soon as I am able, I would like to retrieve them.”

Chiaki nodded.

“That’s understandable. I don’t know the feeling of not remembering myself, though I’ve seen what it can do to a person, how it hurts. Are you… holding up okay?”

Kirumi opened her mouth but she could taste the lie formulating on her tongue and snapped it shut. She would never lie again in her life if she could help it, but admitting to weakness was equally distasteful. Instead, she opted for silence. Chiaki seemed to understand, because she changed the topic easily and told Kirumi of all that had been happening of late.

The context was much appreciated— with all that had happened in so short a span of time, having someone who was always present and willing to fill in the gaps took a colossal weight off her chest.

The Future Foundation had been started by older ultimates from the staff of Hope’s Peak Academy, and worked to try to rebuild the world, picking up survivors from killing games all across Japan. However, a double agent brainwashed by Junko had forced the organization’s leaders into a twisted killing game of their own, and those who lived had only done so because the Remnants of Despair had come to their rescue, recently escaped from their own virtual despair world.

“So, after rescuing this… Future Foundation,” Kirumi began, pausing to glance out the window. “The sixteen of you came here? To try to rebuild?”

“More or less,” Chiaki confirmed. “We traveled around for a bit— or, they did, I was still nothing more than strings of code in a thumb drive back then, but it took them a few weeks to find this place. It’s one of the only sturdy buildings left in the city.

“Oh! But speaking of Future Foundation, you can expect them to come around here eventually. We told them we’d found another group of victims, and Naegi-san wanted to come see you all himself once he finished up renovating his HQ. He and his friends were the first ones to solve one of the real killing games. There have been several other groups, too. Almost all of them join up with the Future Foundation in their growing locations across the world.”

“I see.”

Kirumi paused. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted to ponder aloud, but she didn’t want to be a bother to Chiaki, and doubted that the AI had answers for her, anyways.

Chiaki frowned and said, “I’m always happy to listen, Kirumi!” Kirumi realized with some small sense of embarrassment that she had said that last part aloud. She cleared her throat, averting her gaze towards the window once more.

“I was merely… thinking on some of my fake memories. And I have to wonder if any of them are actually true, or derived from the truth.”

“Like what?”

She knew the things she wished to say, but actually saying them aloud proved a difficult task. It felt as if there was a physical barrier between her brain and her tongue that made the words come that much slower. Dredging them up was like pulling a wagon through wet cement. She would need to consult Mikan on this later.

“I… In my memories, I believe… I am some sort of political figure. Perhaps even the prime minister of Japan. Is that true?”

“Mmm, I don’t think so. You’ve always been the world’s best maid, but you were never too invested in politics. You said that you had to stay indifferent if you were to perform at your best. It made it easy for people to rely on and confide in you.”

Kirumi frowned, rubbing at her temples. “It just… it feels real. I am very aware that the memories I possess are counterfeit, and yet they still seem so tangible. Is that not strange? How could that be so? And if my memories are all scripted and made up, then who wrote them?”

“Junko, probably. Or one of her other underlings. She was the Ultimate Despair, after all. She had a lot of influence over Ultimates beyond the Remnants of Despair. She could have swayed anyone if she wanted to. Probably got hold of some sort of writer or neurologist.”

Kirumi supposed that did make sense, though she had no memory of anyone named Junko Enoshima whatsoever— not even a face came to mind, no spark of recognition whenever Chiaki said her name. Not even a headache, which under normal circumstances would accompany anything memory related. To what lengths had Junko gone to erase herself from the killing games? Were there others, still trapped in hellish domes like she and her classmates? Who would she be, now, had the Tragedy never occurred?

“I wonder who I was before,” she murmured, staring now at her mummified hands, that before now she believed were only made to serve.

“You’ll know soon,” Chiaki said through the speaker. “Speaking of, I need to go help Kazuichi run some equations for the stasis simulation. I’ll be back later.”

The monitor gave a small blip before going dark, leaving her alone in the hospital bed once more.

So. She wasn’t prime minister, then. The weight of such a burden, fake or not, still rested on her shoulders, the sensation now a major discomfort where before it had been the sole motive guiding her through the dark. How much of her had been wiped away? Was it even possible to get it all back, or would she truly have to start from scratch, building from the ground up on all the things these former classmates of hers told her were true?

Pain sliced through her head in an oncoming migraine, and she winced. It seemed she had done enough pondering for the day.

Fortunately, a distraction presented itself in the form of one Sonia Nevermind.

Two sharp knocks reverberated throughout the room before the doors creaked open, revealing the Ultimate Princess herself. She was dressed in a pair of pants and a button up shirt that both looked army worthy, along with the black bow in her hair that had been there when Kirumi first saw her. She offered Kirumi a smile, though it seemed almost faint, and much more natural than the one the Ultimate Maid had first seen on her face.

“Sonia-san,” she greeted politely, in lieu of anything more accusatory. Sonia nodded in turn, walking over to sit down at the side of her bed gently. “Is there something you need from me?”

“Yes, actually,” Sonia admitted. “We are beginning preparations for a rescue team for your classmates. Akane and Teruteru were able to track down the dome, but we need to know what to prepare for once we break inside. What kind of defenses did you face when escaping? You mentioned buzzsaws, but I want to ensure that we get everyone out safely.”

Kirumi frowned, thinking back on her execution. Other than the exisals, she couldn’t think of any prominent defense system, but no doubt Monokuma had something up his sleeve.

“Nothing that I noticed immediately,” she said. “Undoubtedly, he has some sort of defense system, though primarily that duty seemed to fall to his supposed children and their exisals— large, heavily-armed mechs.”

Sonia tilted her head, frowning lightly. “Peko said that she, Akane, and Nekomaru took out four of the five mechs— exisals, I suppose— that were there. Only one managed to get away.”

Were the Remnants of Despair really that powerful? Kirumi had yet to witness their abilities for herself, but she had hardly thought the exisals destructible at all.

“Well, that certainly makes your mission easier, I suppose. Any other defenses are ones either within the complex or entirely out of sight.”

“I see. Thank you, Kirumi.”

“Whatever you plan to do,” Kirumi said. “I wish you luck.”

Sonia smiled, genuine despite the gravity of all that rested on her shoulders. A princess through and through.

“The sentiment is appreciated, but I truly believe that we will save them. There is not a doubt in my mind. Anyhow, thank you for the information. If you should ever need anything from me, you need only ask.”

Kirumi smiled and nodded, but knew she could never do such a thing. Sonia left the room with a practiced wave, and as soon as she could no longer hear the footsteps, Kirumi sighed. The tension in the muscles of her shoulders was only growing by the hour, stress sinking like talons into her lungs. What if she hadn’t gotten help in time? Would her sacrifice, too be all for naught?

Her eyes were drawn back to the window, and the image of destruction that lied beyond. The sight stung.

It was all a matter of waiting, now. Waiting for her memories to make sense again, waiting for the Remnants to launch a mission to the black dome, waiting for their return with either bones and blood or living, breathing bodies, waiting for the guilt of her crimes to whittle her into dust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i barely started next chapter so the next update might take a bit longer but i have high motivation for this project so we’ll see. i’ve just got a lot goin on w finals and all the Fun School Shit


End file.
